It took him a little while to realize the dynamics of the three women. Rafe worked silently while he studied them. Marcus was at his side, helping with everything that wasn’t a single man's job. When needed, the two of them would move whatever had to be moved when ordered to by the small generals directing them.

Lacy and Jillian knew what they wanted—and what they wanted didn’t always match up. And they snipped and snarled at each other as much as they hugged and laughed. They were a bit dizzying at times. Two strong personalities most definitely.

Ariella was the peace-maker of the little trio; sometimes she quieted the other two with a simple word—or look.

It was Marcus that had Rafe’s focus sharpening.

Rafe had a feeling something was on his brother's mind, but he didn't push. If Marcus needed to talk, Marcus would talk. When he was ready. They weren’t like Travis; their younger brother ran off at the mouth almost constantly.

Rafe and Marcus tended to think first and speak last. It worked well for them that way.

Jillian wasn't as loud as he would've expected. She constantly snipped and snapped at him, but with her friends she was somewhere in the middle. Lacy was accustomed to being in charge. That was easy to see, and was typical of most surgeons in his experience. They were used to making quick decisions and not being questioned.

Jillian was calm competence. She was able to organize and orchestrate almost anything with barely any instruction at all. But she wasn’t a pushover, and she and Lacy seemed to enjoy squabbling a bit. Ariella would just roll her eyes at the two of them, occasionally.

Ariella, on the other hand, was helpful, kind, encouraging and sweet. There were no other ways to describe her.

She had general ideas of how she wanted things to be, but didn't seem to know how to execute them. Jillian did. And she guided, while Lacy took charge and implemented. All three were exceptionally bright women; that was more than apparent. Difficult to fathom at times, though. They were accomplished, intelligent, and on their way to being successes in their chosen fields.

It took him a long while to realize that Ari wasn't just quiet, she was shy. Not quite awkward, she moved with a grace that was exceptionally beautiful, but socially she was just not as confident as her two friends. And those two jumped in to lessen any difficulties Ari might face.

Part of it was his fault, and he knew it. He had come on too strong with his antagonism at the very beginning.

No wonder Jillian had been so protective. He was the big bad wolf who had practically frightened Ariella away. Add in what he had been told about her history and he felt like a real ass. He probably owed the girl—she seemed more of a girl to him than Jillian did even though Jillian was technically younger—one hell of an apology.

He wasn’t going to be her damned big brother. Hell, he wasn't even looking to be a friend. But it was hard not to let her get under his skin.

Whenever he had to speak to her, or get in close contact with her, Rafe made a point of talking quietly and gently with her.

She was still jumpy and awkward with him. She was most obviously comfortable with Travis. Understandable, since Travis was safe. He flirted with her occasionally, but no more so than he did with Jillian. Jillian joked back, but Ari just smiled quietly.

Marcus only spoke with her gently as well, as if he sensed how easily frightened she was. Marcus also seemed to go out of his way to be kind to her, and to get her attention on him. Rafe wondered how much guilt his brother felt toward her.

Justin Albright had been his brother's second-in-command at the time that Albright had nearly killed Ari. Such a trauma to a woman like her had to have impacted her in ways Rafe didn’t want to contemplate. He refused to think about what emotional damage Albright had done to her. He knew the bastard had damaged Jillian. And Lacy. All of them.

Rafe knew exactly how much damage a monster like that could do. He’d seen it so many times before.

There had been far too many young girls and women no older than the three that he was with who had been harmed by men, by bullets, knives, explosions, while he'd been in Africa. He'd treated so many of them...lost far too many of them while he was there. He knew the ravages those wounds could bring.

Wounds that just wouldn't heal.

He had to push the anger at Albright aside. Now that he was right there with them, saw who they actually were, it seemed more real than it had before. Was that because he was not just getting involved, but was now closely connected to these women? Or was it because of the redhead currently ordering Travis to move bookshelves out of her way?

It was a possibility.

Rafe wanted, needed to know more. And that meant Marcus.

Rafe bent down and grabbed two medium-sized oxygen tanks that were haphazardly rolled under an old desk; he sat them carefully against the far wall. When he straightened, his eyes met his oldest brother’s. "Why don’t you and I go grab lunch for everyone? Let Travis stay here and be their willing grunt. I think he’s enjoying it." Rafe looked at his younger brother. Travis was box-stepping Jillian around the now cleared center of the room while Lacy laughed. Rafe watched for a moment. Lacy had lost some weight, but at least the color was back in her cheeks. He’d been making a point of driving out to Travis’ every night to check on her. Just to make sure. Hiding that fact from her hadn’t been so easy, though.

He wanted to speak with his older brother. Marcus was smart enough to catch on.